


Parker the Pest

by celestialskiff



Series: The Leverage Age Play AU No One Asked For [2]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Diapers, Eliot is a good big bro, Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Omorashi, Parker's bunny, Platonic Cuddling, alternate universe - littles are known, background Sophie/Nate, canon-typical crimes, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 15:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16725900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialskiff/pseuds/celestialskiff
Summary: Little Are Known AU.“You would cope without me, Parker,” Sophie said softly. “You’re the bravest person I know. But you don’t have to.”In a world where littles are a part of society, Parker has never felt like it’s safe to trust anyone.Loose sequel: big thanks to everyone who read the last part and encouraged me to keep writing. I didn’t think anyone would want to read a Leverage ageplay AU, so it was really nice to be proved wrong!Please read the tags! This may not be for you.





	Parker the Pest

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Huge thanks to the long-suffering capeofstorm for going over this for me. Remaining mistakes and Britishisms are my own. Also big thanks to everyone who read the last part of this and encouraged me to keep writing. I didn’t think anyone would want to read a Leverage ageplay AU, so it was really nice to be proved wrong! 
> 
> Apologies to Beverly Cleary. 
> 
> **Warning: Section 4 includes vomiting and stomach-upsets. If that bothers you, you can skip directly to section 5 without missing anything vital.**

_No matter what others said, she never thought she was a pest. The people who called her a pest were always bigger and so they could be unfair._

—Ramona the Pest, Beverly Cleary 

1\. 

Mice and rabbits lived in tunnels and burrows, and so did Parker. 

She had friends to keep her company: Bunny, Green Bunny, and Mousie. They belonged in here too. When she wasn’t going to be able to check on them for a while, she hid them in different places in her tunnels, where they’d be safe. 

When she was thinking something over, she brought them into the tunnels with her too. She’d talk to them and they’d help her to figure things out. She’d curl up, facing them. She didn’t need to speak to communicate with them, but sometimes she liked to use her voice. It helped her to make sense of things. 

When she’d first started to trust Sophie, she’d had a lot of conversations with them in the safe dark of a vent. She’d usually choose one next to the bank so she could hear the clank of safe doors and the hum of security cameras. 

Green Bunny warmed up to Sophie first. Parker even stole Sophie’s scarf so Green Bunny could wear it, because Green Bunny liked the way Sophie smelled, and felt safe on Sophie’s couch. Mousie started to like the way she could rely on Sophie to be there if she was scared. Mousie was often scared. 

But Bunny still didn’t like Sophie. Bunny didn’t trust anyone. Bunny didn’t even entirely trust Parker. _We don’t need other people,_ Bunny said. _You’re letting your guard down. I don’t like it._

Bunny was her oldest friend. Her smartest, too, not including Hardison. Parker knew Bunny was scared because she was vulnerable. Bunny couldn’t take care of herself, she couldn’t run or hide without Parker’s help. She couldn’t use a taser. It was even scarier to be Bunny than it was to be a woman and a little. 

“You like Sophie,” Parker told Bunny. “You like how it feels when she cuddles with you. Or when she makes waffles for breakfast.” 

_Archie gave us ice-cream_ , Bunny said. 

Parker sighed. She felt a pain, low in her stomach. Fear. Unease. 

2\. 

But there were times without any unease at all. 

Parker way lying on her stomach, idly sucking her pacifier as she went over the blueprint she’d taken from Nate’s plan chest. They didn’t have a job in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, but Parker enjoyed looking at the blueprint anyway. One day they might have a job. And when they did she’d have at least two plans for getting in and out. 

“We should get going,” Sophie said. “It’s nearly bedtime.” 

“You’re ruining my life,” Parker said, in her best affronted-teenager voice. She sat up slowly, making sure not to crumple the edge of the blueprint. 

“Give that back to Nate,” Sophie said. 

“You can’t make me.” Parker let the pacifier fall out of mouth. The chain Hardison had made caught it, and it banged against her chest. “You’re not even my real mom.” 

That made Sophie laugh, as it always did. It was a comforting joke, because Sophie _wasn’t_ her real mom, and Parker didn’t expect her to be. But she took much better care of Parker than anyone else ever had. 

“You’re such a pest.” 

Parker stuck her tongue out at Sophie. Once she’d put the blueprint back in the plan chest, she put her arm around Sophie’s waist, leant her head on Sophie’s shoulder. Sophie smelt of whiskey and Chanel. Parker closed her eyes, realising she was tired. It was the good kind of tired that meant she’d fall asleep, not the jangly kind that made her want to jump off a building just so her brain might be still for a moment. 

“Ready to go?” Sophie asked, smoothing back Parker’s hair from her face. “Do you have your hat? It’s cold.” 

“Hat’s itchy,” Parker said, putting her pacifier back in her mouth. Sophie sighed, and took off her own hat, which was lined in faux-fur, unlike Parker’s wool beanie, and put it on Parker’s head. 

“Better?” she asked. 

Parker nodded, reaching up to run her fingers over the soft, red fur. 

3\. 

No one had ever wanted to foster a little, because there were extra expenses. The state gave you an extra ten dollars a week, but that didn’t cover diapers and rubber sheets for the bed. It definitely didn’t cover pacifiers. Parker was really good at stealing pacifiers, but diapers were harder to steal because they were bulky, and anyway she hated diapers. Every day she pretended she’d never have to wear one again. 

Sometimes in bed at night, in a clean diaper, she felt safe and content, but mostly diapers were wet, and they were hard to change properly, and she had this rash that wouldn’t go away. She was really good at biting and hitting the other kids if they called her stinky or Betsy-Wetsy, so mostly they left her alone. She’d hide and wish really hard she wasn’t little. 

She thought if she could prove she was brave enough she’d stop being little. No more wet pants, no more wanting a hug. She made the other kids bury her underground, and she stayed in the dark wondering which would happen first: would she run out of air, or would she stop being little? 

Those moments underground came back to her sometimes, in dreams. She’d hear the sound of the soil against the box, and the feeling of her breath, wet, against her lips. And the wish, deep inside her, going right through her core: _Make me someone else, make me different from this..._

She knew she was brave, now more than ever. She was hardly scared of anything. 

“I have to keep proving it,” she explained to Sophie. “That I’m better than anyone else.” 

Sophie put on her listening face. Parker used to hate Sophie’s listening face, because it reminded her of therapy, but now she knew Sophie didn’t mean it like that. Sophie actually cared what Parker had to say. “Why do you have to be better than everyone else?” Sophie asked. 

Wasn’t it obvious? Parker flopped back against the pillows. She couldn’t remember getting into Sophie’s bed last night, but she must have crept in there at some point. She was wearing a t-shirt she’d stolen from Hardison, and a diaper. 

“Because no one thinks we’re any good. Littles, I mean. Everyone wishes we didn’t exist.” 

Sophie caressed her cheek. “I’m very glad you exist.” 

“I wish we didn’t exist.” Parker played with the hem of her t-shirt. “I’m so... I don’t like needing other people.” 

Sophie rolled over, lying on her stomach. She leant her chin on her folded arms. “I hated to need anyone. I always wanted to be independent. To be able to rely on myself.” She paused, for long enough that Parker wondered if she was going to say anything else. “But then I met you.” 

Parker squirmed. She didn’t like the way Sophie looked at her – as though Parker was special. It made Parker feel like she didn’t have any skin. She wanted to go hide somewhere. _I’ve tricked you_ she wanted to say. _I’ve made you think I’m good and I’m_ not. 

“But I need you,” Parker said. “You don’t need me to... Find your pacifier or change your diaper or give you cuddles.” 

“I need you for the last one,” Sophie said, and stretched her arms out to Parker. Parker found herself bundled into Sophie’s embrace, her nose in Sophie’s shoulder. She wriggled, and then let Sophie hold her. 

“You would manage without me, Parker,” Sophie said softly. “You’re the bravest person I know. But you don’t have to.” 

Parker bit her lip. Bunny told her she was being weak. She was showing Sophie all the best ways to hurt her. Parker hid her face and tried to concentrate on the safe smell of Sophie’s skin. 

4\. 

Parker woke up when she heard Sophie vomiting in the bathroom. It took her a moment to work out what the noise was. Her palms started to sweat, and her head felt tight, but she swung her legs out of bed, crossed the corridor, and pushed open the bathroom door. 

Sophie looked grey. She was on the floor, hunched over the toilet, her nightdress sticking to her skin. She’d come home late, from a date with a mark. Parker had put herself to bed. She’d felt Sophie kiss her forehead when she’d come in, but she hadn’t really woken up. 

“Go –” Sophie began, and then she groaned, and threw up again. 

It was awful. Parker felt queasy too. She didn’t know what to do. If someone was throwing up, she always ran in the other direction. That was the only solution. 

But this was different. If she was throwing up, Sophie would help her. 

Parker went into the kitchen, and got a glass of water. Sophie was still on the bathroom floor. She was shivering. Parker passed her the glass of water, and reached over to flush the toilet. Sophie must have been too wobbly to reach the flush. 

“Oh, God,” Sophie said. She swished her mouth out with the water, spat it out, gagged, and threw up a steam of bile into the toilet. 

Parker bit her lip. She wanted to get under the bed, where it was safe, and hug Bunny, and never hear anyone throw up ever again. 

Sophie didn’t look like herself. She looked like a ghost. But she was shivering, so Parker went into her bedroom, took her second best blanket from her nest under the bed, and brought it to Sophie. She wrapped it around Sophie’s shoulders. 

Then she thought the bathroom floor must be hard, so she found a towel and folded it, so Sophie could sit on it. 

Sophie sprawled on the bathroom floor, leaning against the toilet. Parker had never seen her like this: weak and shaky, not in control. 

“Do you need drugs?” Parker asked. That was probably the next thing, wasn’t it, when someone was sick? Parker wasn’t sure.

“It was the oysters,” Sophie said. “Oh God.” She made a sound like a sob and a groan at once. She retched, but nothing came up. 

Parker whimpered in response. She was aware of her own body: that she was shaky with adrenaline, and her diaper was wet. She felt terribly alert, as she always did when she’d been pulled from sleep. In the past, being woken suddenly had always meant danger. 

“You can go back to bed, baby.” Sophie’s voice was rough, and she was still shivering. 

Parker shook her head. “I could call Hardison.” Parker thought that of everyone she knew, Hardison would be kindest when you were sick. 

“Absolutely not,” Sophie said. Then she moaned, and said, “Parker, I’m going to need you to help me up, and then you have to leave the room.” 

“OK.” Instructions were good. Parker understood direct instructions. She didn’t always want to follow them, but she understood them. 

It turned out Sophie had diarrhoea too. Parker could hear it even with the door closed. She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth. All of this made her afraid, the sickness, the smells, Sophie not being like her usual self. 

She wanted to make it better, and she didn’t know how. It was all wrong. 

She went to get Bunny, but then she didn’t want to touch Bunny in case she had germs from Sophie and she’d give them to Bunny. 

She put on her own bathrobe and waited in the hall. When she hadn’t heard anything from the bathroom in a while, she pushed the door open and peeked in. Sophie was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wrapped in the blanket. 

“Never again,” she said. “Never, ever eating oysters again.” 

“I don’t like them anyway,” Parker said. “Funny texture. And smell.” 

“I think the worst is over now,” Sophie said, but ten minutes later she was throwing up again. Parker stayed in the hall, coming back in to help Sophie wash her face. Sophie was grey, still, and clammy when Parker touched her. Parker wanted to call Hardison because she was sure she was doing something wrong, and what if Sophie was really sick, like going-to-die sick, and she hadn’t noticed? Hardison might know what to do. 

“It’s just food poisoning,” Sophie kept saying. She even smiled tiredly at Parker. 

A long time passed before she let Parker help her to bed. The sky was growing light. 

She brought Sophie a basin in case she was going to throw up again, and a tiny glass of water. She wanted to stay near Sophie to make sure she was OK, and she wanted to get far away and hide in a vent until she felt safe. 

She rocked herself a little, and decided to change her wet diaper. Once she was clean, she went back into Sophie’s room, and lay down next to Sophie, on top of the covers. 

“You’re so sick,” Parker said. It seemed an inadequate description. Sophie had been too sick to be _Sophie_ for a little while. 

Sophie looked very tired. Her eyes were deeply ringed, and she was still shivering a little. Parker carefully took her hand. “I’ll look after you,” she said. 

Sophie’s eyes were half open. She turned her head slowly, to look at Parker, and squeezed Parker’s hand. 

5\. 

Hardison had got really excited about the idea of costumes. “I had to skip Halloween for years, because I’m not a little and I’m not a kid. Now I can take you trick-or-treating. You’ll be really good cover.” 

Parker didn’t say anything. She was playing with some of the toys Hardison called “collectibles”. Princess Leia and Spock and Green Bunny were going on an adventure. 

“Oh, yes,” Sophie said. “Halloween is a costume party for everyone. What do you want to wear?” 

Luckily Hardison spoke for her. “We could do a group costume. Do you think Nate and Eliot would come?” 

“Eliot is not doing that,” Eliot said. He was making hamburgers and complaining under his breath about Hardison’s stove. 

“Let’s not invite Nate either,” Sophie said. “He’d just whine about it.” 

Parker wondered if she could convince Nate that they needed to start a job on Halloween. She wouldn’t mind the dressing up part if it was for a heist. 

Sophie and Hardison were brainstorming three-person costumes. Parker put Green Bunny on her lap for comfort, and picked up Captain Picard and a cool blue lady that Hardison said was Zhaan from _Farscape_. Sophie wanted them to dress as characters from _Singin’ in the Rain_ , and Hardison was _Star Wars_ all the way. 

Parker decided that Green Bunny and Spock needed to get into the vents because they were looking for survivors from a space battle. Just as she was hoisting herself up into the vent above Hardison’s kitchen table, Eliot caught her ankle. 

“Dinner in five minutes.” 

“I’ll come back.” 

“Stay down here,” Eliot said, doing the thing with his eyes that was supposed to be scary. 

Parker wriggled her foot, but Eliot’s hand was like a vice. She sighed and let go of the vent, not bothering to get her balance. Eliot caught her before she hurt either of them. “Warn me before you do that,” he growled, setting her on her feet. 

Parker sat on the edge of the table, playing with Green Bunny’s ears. “I don’t like Halloween,” she said. 

“Me neither,” Eliot said. “Loud and stupid.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“The slutty costumes don’t make up for all the damn fireworks.” 

“All candy is free if you haven’t gone straight. You don’t need to ask people for it.” 

Eliot sighed. “We could try making candy. I just bought Heston Blumenthal’s new book. It’ll still be terrible for you, but at least I’ll know exactly what’s in it.” 

Parker didn’t really like cooking with Eliot because he never let her do the fun parts and got all cranky if she made a mess. “We could just not have Halloween. We could do Christmas instead. Two Christmases.” 

Eliot made a face. 

“We thought you should decide, kitten.” Sophie came through from the living room, and put her arm around Parker’s shoulders. She smelt like wine. “You could dress as Cosmo. You’re so athletic, and you love all the songs.”

“That’s the most boring costume. Woman, we’re doing _Star Wars_. Parker will back me up.” Hardison folded his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. Eliot pushed him out of the way so he could get the shredded cheese. 

Parker’s body suddenly felt too small. It couldn’t contain the feelings she was having. She wished Hardison would stop looking at her and smiling. She could feel sobs in her throat and in her chest, and she didn’t want to start crying. Crying was almost as bad as throwing up. 

Eliot had stopped her from going through the vent, so she made for the door instead. She heard them make surprised noises as she ran through it, but she was down the stairs before they had time to run after her. 

She wasn’t wearing any shoes. She stood on the street in her socks. It smelt of gasoline and smoke, and she needed to keep moving if she wanted to stay warm, and it was hard to run without shoes. She didn’t know how to make words explain what she was feeling. She wanted Bunny. 

“Don’t run away.” It was Sophie. She came out of Hardison’s building, not wearing her coat. She looked very small under the streetlights. “Parker, I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” 

The part of Parker that wanted to run and keep running, the part that knew about moving and hiding and never letting anyone close, was very loud. It was difficult to let Sophie catch up to her. 

“Your feet,” Sophie said. “Come inside, darling, it’s cold out.” 

“I don’t like Halloween,” Parker said. 

“I can see that.” Sophie touched Parker’s cheek. “That’s all right.” 

“I want Bunny.” 

Sophie took Parker’s hand. Her fingers were cold. “Eliot made hamburgers and garlic sauce.” 

“I want chocolate pudding.” But she followed Sophie upstairs. 

*

The thing was, she knew Sophie loved costumes. She knew Hardison wanted to dress as Han Solo. Parker wanted to get excited about candy and fireworks. 

The smell of scorched pumpkins. Plastic vampire teeth. Biting the inside of her mouth until she tasted blood. The noise. The clouds of smoke. The children everywhere. 

“I did blow up my dad’s house,” she told Sophie. “I know you’ve read my files.” 

“I did,” Sophie said. She was making tea at the kitchen counter. She’d stopped looking at Parker when Parker had something important to say, and Parker appreciated that. It was hard enough to talk without someone looking at your face and your eyes. 

“I did it like it says. The police report was reasonably accurate.” Parker hugged Bunny. They’d come back early from Hardison’s because she’d wanted her own things around her. 

“Why did you do it?” Sophie’s voice was gentle and careful. 

“Because I’m a bad person.” Parker rocked herself, holding Bunny close. This used to be all she needed, the rocking motion, and the feeling of Bunny’s ears against her cheek. Sophie had given her so much more. 

“You must have been scared,” Sophie said. “It’s hard to blow up a house. And you were a little kid.” 

“It was scarier not to blow it up.” Parker bit her lip. It was another one of those things that was too big to put into words. “Dad didn’t like me. He said I didn’t look at him properly. He’d get real low, on my level, and stare into my eyes. He’d tell me to look at him. And I couldn’t.” 

Sophie brought her tea to the coffee table, and sat down. She handed Parker a sippy-cup of orange juice. 

“That’s not why Halloween is scary, though,” Parker said. “I don’t know why I hate it. It’s not like I blew the house up on Halloween. We didn’t really do Halloween stuff when I was little. We’d turn the lights off and go sit in the basement so no one would ring our doorbell. That sucked, but it wasn’t scary.” 

Sophie was quiet for a moment. Parker risked looking up at her face. Her expression was thoughtful. She was beautiful, Parker thought. Like a painting. 

“You’re having big feelings,” Sophie said. “There aren’t always explanations for everything.” 

Parker played with bunny’s ears. She wanted to make a fort, but she knew forts drove Sophie crazy, even though Sophie had never forbidden them. “I’d rather be a fun little. You give me all these things.”

“Hey. You’re a lot of fun at Christmas. You don’t have to be fun at every holiday.” Sophie kissed her forehead. “It might get a bit tiring.” 

“I could be fun at some Jewish holidays too. You could teach me about them.” 

“I’d like that, darling.” Sophie patted the couch. “Will you come sit beside me?” 

Parker nuzzled into Sophie’s side. “Eliot doesn’t like Halloween either.” 

“He hates fireworks.” Sophie played with Parker’s hair. “Maybe we should go away somewhere quiet for Halloween. Eliot loves the countryside.” 

Parker wrinkled her nose. There was nothing to steal in the country. “Maybe we should.” 

6\. 

Eliot went to visit some of his buddies from the service over the Halloween period. “It’s good to be with people like you,” he said to Parker, when she explained they’d been planning to invite him on a trip. “You should try it.” 

Parker bit her lip. “I have Bunny. And you guys are crooks, like me.” 

“I meant other littles.” Eliot scrubbed his hand over his face. “It’s not always easy, being a sub, especially when you’re a guy like me. My buddies get it. We don’t have to talk about it, but they get it.” 

“I don’t like littles,” Parker said. She’d never been friends with any. At playgrounds or other little spaces, she’d see them together, and it reminded her too much of being in a home. The other kids always had rules she didn’t understand and factions she wasn’t part of. It was safer to be alone. 

And when she’d been in juvie, she’d lived with other littles, and they were just as likely to steal her food or piss in her bed as anyone else – more, maybe. Littles were either dumb or mean. 

“We’ll go to Milan,” Sophie said, when Parker told her that Eliot had his own plans. “That’ll be much more fun than Vermont.” 

“Just us?” Parker asked. “What are we going to steal?” 

“It’ll be a holiday,” Sophie said, gently. “We’ll go to the spa. No theft at all.” 

Parker wasn’t sure _that_ was going to be any fun. 

They were booked on an overnight flight. Sophie packed for Parker: all the clothes she laid out were ones suited to specifically to being little, none of the blazers or tight dresses Parker wore on cons. “What if you need me to steal someone’s soul?” she asked. “Or be, you know. A grown-up.” 

“I won’t. Unless you want to.” Sophie laid out a soft pink hoodie she’d bought for Parker recently. It had rabbit ears. “You could wear this on the plane?” 

Sophie had planned for Parker to sleep during the flight, but Parker didn’t feel sleepy at all. She looked at plans of the Royal Palace of Milan, until Sophie told her to relax. 

The flight attendant brought her warm milk. Parker felt rebellious and asked for rum and coke instead. 

“You can have a little rum in your milk,” Sophie said. “No sugar.” 

“You’re ruining my life,” Parker said in her fake-teenage voice. 

The flight attendant didn’t get it, and said, “Your Mom is being very generous. It’s an exciting trip, isn’t it? Is this your first time in Italy?”

“No,” Parker said. She squirmed. She didn’t like it when people called Sophie her mom. Sophie was _Sophie_. She’d had a mom once, and she didn’t want one ever again. 

“We’re well-travelled,” Sophie said, and kissed the top of Parker’s head. The flight-attendant gave a fake smile and went to help someone else. 

Parker sipped her milk. Hot milk and rum turned out to be kind of gross. “Can I watch a movie?” 

“Of course. Can I go to sleep?” Sophie said. 

“Uh-huh. I’m not the boss of when you sleep.” 

“You are when you ask me a million questions about security guards at the palace.”

Parker looked at Sophie. There were dark rings around her eyes. Parker took her special green scarf, and folded carefully into a big square, before putting it on her shoulder. “Rest here,” she said. “I’ll watch _Ninja Turtles_ and be good.” 

By the time they got to the hotel, Parker was yawning. “The last time I stayed in Milan I slept in a warehouse,” she said, looking up at the many balconies, the opulent lights. 

“Oh, kitten,” Sophie sighed. 

“It was OK,” Parker said. “I stole a lot of gelato.” 

It was 10am in Milan, and the hotel was getting to the end of its breakfast service. “Do you want to go to bed?” Sophie asked. 

Parker stamped her feet to wake herself up. “I want a pastry.” 

They decided they’d get some breakfast, though Sophie warned Parker that she’d make her take a nap later. “You are too much trouble when you’ve been awake for twenty-four hours,” she said, as they waited to be shown to a table. A concierge had already whisked their bags to their room. 

“I can stay up way longer than that,” Parker said. “I just need lots of Pepsi.” 

“Oh no.” Sophie made a face. “Pepsi gives you diarrhoea.” 

“That keeps me awake, too,” Parker said. 

Sophie looked even more horrified. 

They were shown to a table with a sparkling white cloth, they kind Parker knew she’d spill juice on, no matter how hard she tried not to. Parker headed towards the buffet, drawn by the scent of sugar. “Take some fruit too,” Sophie called after her. 

There was one pastry left, a croissant dotted with chocolate sprinkles. It sat alone on a white napkin, crisp and fresh. A little dashed past Parker, and snatched it from the plate. She deposited carefully onto her own tray, which was already heaped with toast and chocolate spread. 

Parker pretended to look at the cereal, and lifted the croissant off the little’s plate. She took a bite before anyone could stop her, licking pastry flakes off her lips. 

“Hey.” The little was taller than Parker, and she pushed into Parker’s space. “You stole it.” 

Parker licked the chocolate from the corner of her mouth. “You can’t prove it.” 

“Dad, she _stole_.” The little was British and had a kind of whiny voice. The guy she was speaking to was taller again, with dopey brown eyes. 

“She took it right off your plate,” he agreed. “That isn’t very nice.” 

This comment didn’t seem to be directed at Parker, so she didn’t respond. She shoved as much of the pastry as she could into her mouth, grabbed a plate of fruit salad, and hurried back to her table. 

They followed her, both of them, the little and her adult. That wasn’t fair. It wasn’t like she’d stolen a purse. 

“Is this your little?” the man asked Sophie. 

Sophie had been looking at her phone. She put it down, smiling winningly at the man. “Charlotte Prentiss,” she said. “How do you do.” 

“Your little stole from mine. She took her pastry.” 

Parker swallowed the last corner of the croissant. Sophie gave her an appraising look.

“It was the last one,” the other little said. 

“Do you want me to barf it back up?” Parker said. 

“You should say sorry.” The little pursed her lips, looking sour. 

“What good will that do?” Parker curled her arm protectively around the fruit she’d taken. She knew she didn’t have to do that any more, but sometimes it was hard not to. 

The man coughed, looking pointedly at Sophie. “Apologise to Claudia. It’s the right thing to do.” 

“She doesn’t have to apologise if she doesn’t want to,” Sophie said. “But, Parker, sweetie, you know you shouldn’t steal from another guest.” 

“I’m not sorry,” Parker said, staring at her plate. 

“Well,” Sophie said. “I’m sorry you were upset.” She was looking at Claudia. 

_I’m sorry you’re upset_ wasn’t really an apology at all, Parker though. It didn’t mean anything. She was glad those were the words Sophie had chosen. It seemed to be good enough for the British couple, too, because the man mumbled something, and they went to their table. 

“Are you mad at me?” Parker said, once they were gone. 

“You have chocolate on your face,” Sophie said, reaching over with her napkin. Parker let Sophie scrub it off, even though she hated being cleaned. “No, I’m not angry with you. I thought you’d know better. It really isn’t kind, kitten. And we could have got you a pastry somewhere else, if that’s what you really wanted.” 

Parker rubbed her cheek. “I forgot that,” she said. “I forgot we could just buy one.” 

“It’s OK.” Sophie was being so gentle. Parker kind of wanted her to be mad. “I need coffee. Then we can decide what to do this morning, all right?” 

*

Vents in Europe tended to be a lot smaller than ones in the US, or not there at all. The Royal Palace had actual secret passages, which kind of made up for it, but the hotel was almost entirely vent-free. Parker was sneaking around the service corridors instead, since they were the closest she could get. 

She never found sleep very easy, and her body wasn’t exactly sure what time-zone she was in. Sophie had bought three pairs of shoes, and was now asleep in their room, snoring very softly. Parker knew she’d hotly deny it if she ever mentioned the snores, even though they were ladylike. 

Sitting on a windowsill, at the end of a deserted corridor, she watched a bakery across the road. It was kind of like staking out a building, except the bakery wasn’t doing very well, so all she could steal would be bread and sadness. She watched as guys came with the flour delivery, and as the huge ovens were heated up, swinging her legs out of the window. 

At around 4am she thought maybe she could sleep, and swung herself back inside. The little from the morning before, Claudia, was watching her. She was holding a threadbare elephant by its trunk. “Do you just do bad things all the time?” she asked. 

“Pretty much,” Parker said. 

“Because you’re not supposed to be here. It said staff only.” 

Parker raised her eyebrows. Did she really need to say it? “Neither are you.” 

“I can’t sleep,” Claudia said. “And Daddy’s very boring when he’s asleep.” 

“Don’t you know how to entertain yourself?” Parker leant against the window frame. She could hear a shouted conversation, but it was too faint to make out words. 

“I suppose you do. Stealing things from people.” 

Parker shrugged. “Not much worth stealing up here. You could case some of the rooms, pick up some jewellery, some cash. Not a very big job, though.” 

Claudia looked shocked. “I thought you were just greedy. But you really are a thief.” 

“I’m not going to steal from you,” Parker said. “That would be stupid.” 

“Well, I’m only a little.” 

“Littles can have cool stuff,” Parker said. “That’s not why. It’s because we’re staying in the same hotel. Anyway, Sophie wouldn’t like it.” She thought about it. “Besides, it’s bad to steal, most of the time.” 

Claudia tilted her head to one side. “Is Sophie your mummy?” 

Parker sighed. “She’s my Sophie.” Her head was jangling again. She wouldn’t get to sleep now. “We could play a game, I guess. Hide-and-seek?” No, Claudia wouldn’t be able to find her, ever. It would get boring. “Poker?” 

“There’s a TV room downstairs. We could watch a movie.” Claudia chewed her lip. “I still don’t like you, though.” 

The TV room was illuminated by street-lights outside. There was a selection of English-language DVDs, as well as a smattering of Italian, French and German. Parker turned the TV on, and flicked through news shows. Then, unsurprisingly, a selection of porn. She’d watched porn a few times: the images struck her as bizarre, like a horror movie that wasn’t creepy. She stared at the boobs moving back and forth on the screen. 

“You’re very badly behaved,” Claudia said. She put her elephant on her lap. “I don’t wanna watch this.” 

“Did you find anything else?” 

Claudia nodded, taking the remote from Parker. She turned to the DVD menu for Disney’s _Robin Hood._

Parker drew her knees up to her chest. She’d probably seen it, but she didn’t remember it. “I prefer Studio Ghibli movies,” she said. Hardison had been teaching her about animation. 

“You’re a snob,” Claudia said. “Besides, this movie is about thieves. Like you, except they’re good thieves.” 

*

It was around seven when Parker got back to bed. Her hands were sticky with chocolate she’d taken from the kitchen. Claudia had made a fuss about stealing _again_ , but she’d been happy to eat the chocolate. 

Parker crawled under the covers. “Where were you?” Sophie asked, yawning. “It’s so... Early? Late? How long have I been asleep?” 

“I watched a movie with Claudia,” Parker said. She was kind of sleepy now, but she could handle breakfast if Sophie wanted to get up now. 

“Claudia? The little?” 

“Mm,” Parker found her pacifier under her pillow. “We watched _Robin Hood_. It’s good. It’s about me.” She nuzzled into Sophie’s warmth. “Other littles still suck though.” 

7\. 

Sophie and Hardison were on a long con back in Boston, while Eliot, Parker and Nate were gathering intel for the same job in New York. 

Parker was in an alley in Brooklyn, with Nate, scoping out the architect’s studio opposite and waiting for an opportunity to sneak in. For architects, their security was way too good. 

She was on edge. She’d been homeless in Brooklyn – the smell and feel of the air reminded her of sleeping in vents and libraries, of living off stolen cookies, of desperately trying to wash urine off her legs in public toilets. It made her remember Archie, and the trust she’d felt, the rush of adoration, that someone valued her, that someone was going to take care of her. 

She felt shivery and too hot at the same time, although she didn’t think she was sick. Mostly she wanted Sophie. It was a physical ache – she wanted Sophie to hold her, she wanted to hear Sophie’s heartbeat under her ear. 

She didn’t like it. She didn’t like being reminded how badly she needed her. 

“Coffee?” Nate said, offering her his flask. 

Coffee made her stomach hurt. She was wearing her thief’s clothes, black and tight, and she felt weird without a diaper on. She was trying really hard to listen to her body – _Do I need to pee?_ – but it was always hard to know. Especially when her skin was covered in all the wrong smells and sounds, and she could hear a siren somewhere far away.

If she couldn’t have Sophie, maybe she could scale a building later. She wrapped her arms tight around her stomach. 

“When will they come out?” she complained. 

“If it’s not a front, they’ll need to work long hours. They’re just starting out, after all.” 

“What if they work all night?” Parker nibbled a strand of her hair. She’d forgotten to bring her pacifier and she missed it fiercely. 

“Then we’ll have to come back tomorrow. There are only two guys in there – one of them should come out on a coffee run soon.” 

Parker leant against the wall, but it was cold and slightly sticky so she straightened up again. “The last guy Sophie was dating gave me a doll.” 

Nate coughed. “You know she’s not really dating the mark, don’t you?” 

“Duh.” 

“He doesn’t know about you.” 

Parker nodded. “I’d rather not get a present than get a doll. What would you get me, if you were dating Sophie?” 

Nate coughed again. “I’m not dating Sophie.” 

“I know. But if.” Parker shifted on her feet. It was getting colder. She wished she liked to drink coffee, or that Nate had brought hot chocolate. 

“Well, a boyfriend would typically buy you a present because they want to impress her little, and thus her. But I already know you, so I don’t need to impress you.” 

“I’m not impressed by you.” 

Nate chuckled. “Would a present help?” 

“Couldn’t hurt.” 

Nate folded his arms. “I’d take you both to a circus skills class, or acrobatics. That way, you could show off, and Sophie would like it because people always like to feel proud of their littles. And then you’ll be worn out, so you won’t bug us later.” 

Parker peered up at the building. Light still on, two silhouettes in the window. Nate’s idea was good. She’d love to learn circus skills. She’d probably be better than everyone there. She’d be amazing on a trapeze. But she didn’t want to tell Nate that. 

“They’re not going anywhere.” She sighed. 

“You’re usually more patient than this.” 

“I’m not usually in Brooklyn.” Parker chewed her thumb. 

Time passed. Her feet hurt. She hadn’t expected to be out here for so long. Nate hadn’t said it would be so long. Then her bladder twinged, sore from the cold, and she realised she had to go. She never got much warning – sometimes none at all. That was part of being little. A really, really annoying part. But she could usually keep on top of it when she had to. 

“I’m going to the McDonald’s on the corner,” she said. 

“No – look. They’re moving.” Nate was staring at the window. 

She looked up. One of the guys had left the office. The light went on in the hallway. 

“He’s coming out.” 

Parker stood, frozen. Her stomach clenched, sending urgent signals to her brain. She had to go now, and her heart thudded, because she knew they only had a brief window of time. They’d been waiting for so long, and she had to do this. 

She felt vulnerable, her hand flexing uselessly by her groin. She wanted Sophie. She didn’t know what Sophie would do, but she still wanted her. 

The guy wasn’t coming out. The building was dark, but there was no movement in the foyer. Parker gave a little groan of discontent, and Nate shushed her. 

It happened all at once, as it always did. Suddenly there was a warmth in her groin, and her muscles felt numb. She started to pee, because she was little, and useless, and she couldn’t control it, no matter how much she wanted to. It just wasn’t the way she was made. 

That wish she’d had all her life: that she’d been made differently. She felt tears tracking down her face, and suddenly she was fifteen again, little and alone, trying to live in alleys just like this one, with nowhere dry and clean to go, and no one to take care of her. She didn’t feel safe. 

“Sophie...” she whispered under her breath. Steam rose from her legs, the hot piss meeting the cold air. It was gross. It was shameful. 

“Now, Parker,” Nate said. 

He hadn’t noticed she was crying. He hadn’t noticed anything. 

She stumbled forward. “I’m... I had an accident.” 

Nate looked at her. “It’s dark. You won’t leave footprints, will you?”

Parker didn’t want to go up there. She wanted to be dry and safe. She didn’t want to be all alone in Brooklyn. “I don’t...” 

“You can do this, Parker. It’s an in and out job. Get moving.” 

She did what she was told.

*

She was still wet and cold when they got back to the bar of their hotel. She hadn’t spoken to Nate since handing him the blueprints. She’d just shivered miserably. She’d done what she was supposed to do, the lift had been easy. But she felt all wrong. 

Eliot was in the bar, chatting to a woman in a denim dress. He was smiling and doing a crinkly thing with his eyes. He wasn’t Sophie. But he was safe, and he hadn’t been mean, and she needed an anchor. She needed someone to remind her she wasn’t fifteen years old any more, that she wasn’t alone. 

She pushed past Nate and all the other people, slipping through the wall of noise. 

She threw herself onto Eliot’s lap. He nearly lost his balance, and she heard him groan in protest. But he put his arm around her, steadying them both. “Dammit, Parker,” he said. 

She pressed her face into his chest. It wasn’t at all like Sophie’s – it was wide and firm where hers was yielding, but she could hear his heart under her ear, and he smelt familiar. And he put his other arm around her. She felt something inside her loosen. As he squeezed her, she began to cry. Helpless, raw sobs she would only want Sophie to see, if anyone at all had to see them. 

“You’re cold,” he said. Then, “Ugh, you’re wet. What happened?” 

“She wet her pants.” Nate’s voice was exasperated. “Irish, neat.” 

“Yeah, I can tell.” Eliot’s voice was gravelly, a deep rumble in his chest. “That can’t be all.” 

Nate didn’t respond verbally. She felt Eliot’s hand move awkwardly up and down her back. “Hey, kid,” he said. “What’s up?” 

“Want Sophie,” Parker said, because it was the only answer she had. She kept her face hidden in Eliot’s chest. 

She didn’t listen to the conversation that followed. She didn’t want anyone to see her. She wanted to hide where no one could find her, but she didn’t want to be alone. 

She felt Eliot’s voice under her ear. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you walk?” 

Parker shook her head. She looped her arms around Eliot’s neck. She knew he could carry her easily: he’d given her tonnes of piggy-back rides. 

When he stood up, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and shut her eyes tight. She wanted to vanish. He moved quickly through the busy bar, and she felt hidden from the eyes of strangers. 

When they were alone inside the elevator, she let Eliot put her down. 

“You ruined my chances with that chick at the bar,” Eliot said. “She thought you were my girlfriend.” 

Parker stuck out her tongue. Not at Eliot, but at the idea of being his girlfriend. Anyone’s girlfriend. 

Eliot pulled a face back at her. “Yeah, I know. But an older domme was giving me the eye. I must have come across as the sensitive type.” 

Parker shrugged. She did not want to know about Eliot’s dating life. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” 

Parker shook her head. 

“We can call Sophie in half an hour. I texted her, she’s going to get away from the mark for a while. You can get cleaned up first.” 

He led her out of the elevator and towards their shared suite. Parker wriggled out of her wet pants as soon as the door was shut. She didn’t care if Eliot saw her naked, but he made a startled sound and covered his eyes. 

“You going to be OK to clean up on your own?” 

It seemed to be a rhetorical question, because he was walking towards the other room. Parker glanced at the bathroom. She should be OK. She’d been OK for years on her own without anyone to take care of her. But she wanted someone to take charge, to run the bath, to help her get clean and fresh. She wanted Sophie to wrap a towel around her like she was a burrito, and rock her. 

Words were really hard right now. She made a noise in her throat. 

Eliot looked back at her. “Fuck,” he said. “You’re not able to take of yourself right now, are you?” 

The noise that came out of Parker’s throat this time was more like a whimper. 

Eliot ran his hand through his hair. “OK. I can do this. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve looked after a little.” 

Parker was shivering. She was cold, and sometimes when she was having really big feelings, the shivers came, as though her body was too small to hold everything. 

“OK, sweetheart,” Eliot said. He put a hand on her back, guiding her towards the bathroom. He turned on the taps, and Parker wrapped a towel around herself, even though she was still sticky. The weight helped. 

Eliot’s hair curled in the steam. He didn’t look mad any more, as he swirled bubbles into the water. Parker began to feel safer. There’d never been clean bathrooms and the smell of lavender before she met Sophie. 

*

Parker wasn’t sure if all littles felt this way, or if it was just her. All her feelings were too big. Sometimes she was so happy she couldn’t contain it, but a lot of the time things were very hard. Now that she’d learnt what it was like to have help, she kept wanting more. But it didn’t feel safe to need things from people: the people she wanted help from would stop wanting to help her.

Sophie video-called them on the secure server Hardison had set up. 

She told Sophie everything that happened, although it was hard, because it was hard to explain why everything felt so bad. Wetting her pants shouldn’t have been so scary. But Eliot and Sophie seemed to be having some kind of conversation with their eyes, and Eliot said, “A punch might knock some sense into Nate.” 

Sophie smiled, but in a steely way. “I’ll call him next.” 

“My insides are too big,” Parker tried to explain. “I can’t fit them.” She chewed her lip. She usually wasn’t sorry for anything, but suddenly she wanted to apologise. “I didn’t mean it.” 

“Darling, you haven’t done anything wrong,” Sophie said. 

Parker shut her eyes. She didn’t want to cry again. “Maybe you could tell me a story? A little one?” 

She felt better while she was talking to Sophie, but it was hard once Sophie was gone. Eliot had put hockey on TV. Parker went over, her wet hair sticking to her face. She had her paci now, and Green Bunny, and cosy pyjamas. And most important of all, a night-time diaper. 

Though she’d climbed into his lap earlier, she felt shy now. She perched on the edge of the sofa, sucking her paci. 

Eliot looked at her. “Come here,” he said. 

He pulled her against his side, and she curled up into him, finding the place on his chest where she could hear his heart under her ear. It wasn’t as good as being with Sophie, but it helped. 

“Want me to change the channel?” Eliot asked. 

Parker shook her head. “Tell me about the game.” 

“Well, the Bruins are playing Minnesota Wild. Ten minutes left in the first period...” 

Parker felt her eyes drift closed. 

8\. 

Sophie kissed her a lot of times when she got back from the job in Brooklyn – her nose and her forehead and her cheeks. Sophie also said she was mad at Nate, but Parker didn’t care about that. 

She was mad, too, but she never knew who she was mad at. It was just a hot pain inside her. 

She knew vents wouldn’t help this time. The anger was too tightly coiled. She went to her warehouse, which was even bleaker than before. She wanted to throw herself against the walls, to bruise her arms and her forehead. She’d done that when she was a kid. 

She tried to take deep breaths, like Sophie said she should. 

She grabbed a tire-iron, and went outside. When she was really mad, time moved in a blur. She smashed some stuff – the windows in her own warehouse, windows in other people’s. The crash of glass, the trickle of broken shards. She hit other stuff too – garbage cans, car fenders, whatever junk she could find. She was sweating, and her hands trembled.

It had been a long time since she’d boosted a car. She missed it. 

She’d attracted some attention, smashing things, but not very much. And not the kind of people who were going to call the cops. She started walking, fast, until she was several blocks away. Then she eyed the cars she passed. She’d done this so often, once, that she could still pick the right one almost without thinking about it. 

An old car, one without a central locking system. She was calm as she jimmied the lock. The car smelt of cigarette ash and beer. The calmness spread through her as she got the engine going. She was herself again: Parker. She was good at what she did. 

She drove fast, and Sophie always said she drove like a maniac, even when she was trying not to. So she must really be a maniac right now. A lot of cars beeped their horns at her, and she swore at them and squealed down the alleys and back-streets. 

She parked near one of her favourite buildings – a lawyer’s firm with decent security and really comfortable vents. It was against the rules to boost cars, yes, but she wasn’t going to keep it. She took fifty dollars from her pocket and put it in the glove compartment. That should more than pay for gas. 

Parker hadn’t brought Bunny with her, but she could still hear his voice when she settled in her favourite junction. She curled up small. She felt better now, the anger melted away. She felt like her body belonged to herself again, and she could go home to Sophie, and be safe. 

But Bunny said, _Now is a good time to run. Now, before it’s too late._

“You dummy,” Parker replied. “It’s already way too late. They’ve caught me, they’ve all caught me.” 

Bunny was scared. But Parker thought that this once, it was OK to be caught. 

9\. 

After they killed the final boss, Hardison kept high-fiving her. It was kind of funny, how happy he got about games. He stood up and punched the air, and clasped her hands and cheered. 

“Woman, you’re a maniac,” he said, laughing, but in this context being a maniac seemed to be good. 

Parker had been concentrating so hard she hadn’t noticed how stiff her shoulders were. Her eyes were gritty, and when she moved she realised her diaper had leaked. She’d drunk a tonne of Hardison’s orange soda, and she hadn’t even noticed she was peeing. 

But she felt relaxed. Not happy like Hardison, but warm and content. 

“Want another round?” he asked. 

“Gotta clean up first.” Parker checked the couch, but it wasn’t damp, it was just her thigh. She changed in the bathroom, carefully, making sure there would be no more leaks, and when she was done, she was yawning. 

“You can sleep here,” Hardison said, when she came out rubbing her eyes. “We can watch a movie. Sophie said she’d be out late.” 

Parker wanted her own bed, and Bunny. Besides, the wet patch on her leg itched. “Nah. Another time.”

“I’ll walk you home.” 

Parker raised her eyebrows. “I don’t need you to walk with me. I have a taser.” 

“Yeah, but, kid, I’d rather you didn’t need to use it.” 

“I like tazing people.” Parker grinned. “Anyway, I’m going the rooftop route. You can’t follow me.” 

“I need to make some friends with who are afraid of heights,” Hardison said. “Text me when you get home.” 

“I’ll put my comm in.” 

She couldn’t go home over the rooftops, not exactly. She wasn’t Batman. But she could make her route significantly shorter, and – more importantly – more fun, by scaling a number of walls and climbing along the edges of gutters. Sophie said Parker doing this made her nervous, but Sophie didn’t need to know. 

She climbed in her bedroom window because she preferred that route to the stairs. 

“Parker?” she heard Sophie call from the living room. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“It’s you. I’m glad you’re not breaking in.”

Parker climbed over the back of the couch. “I am breaking in.”

“You live here.” 

“I know where you keep your diamond earrings.” Parker drew her knees up to her chest. 

Sophie stroked Parker’s cheek. “You smell like the outdoors. Leaves and wind.”

“I ran home.” Parker let herself flop down, putting her head in Sophie’s lap. Sophie stroked her hair. “You’re not supposed to be back yet.” 

“Did you have a good time with Hardison?”

“We won.” Parker yawned. “How was your date?” 

Sophie sighed. “Why is it that when I date anyone these days, I end up thinking that I’d rather be home with my little?” 

“Because big people are boring?” Parker made her voice deeper. “Oh, I’m on a diet. I lost my car keys. I’m watching _Mad Men_. Ugh.” 

“You’re such a brat.” 

“You’re not even my real mom,” Parker replied, smiling. “Was he a crook?”

“No. Well. An investment banker.” 

Parker rolled over onto her back, so she was looking into Sophie’s face. “Maybe you should date another little. You know. A sexy one.” 

Sophie shook her head. “You’re enough little for me. Maybe I should get a dog.” 

10\. 

Sophie hadn’t tucked her in last night, but after as she’d drifted off, she’d heard the door open and close. _See,_ she’d said to Bunny. _She comes back. We can trust her._

Parker woke up early, maybe because Sophie hadn’t been there to tell her a story. The street lights were still on outside. Parker found Bunny at the side of the bed, and Green Bunny and Mousie. She hugged them all, but she still wanted Sophie. 

She slid out of bed. Her diaper was wet, but she wanted to curl up in bed with Sophie more than she wanted to change it. It squished a little as she went down the hallway. 

Sophie’s room was very dark, the curtains too heavy to allow in any light. Parker knew her way to the bed. She lifted the covers carefully. Sophie was way over to the side, where Parker usually slept. Parker eased her way into the bed, trying not to disturb Sophie. There was a sigh and a soft hum, and Sophie woke up enough to wrap her arms around Parker, making space for Parker against her body. 

Parker shut her eyes. Sophie was warm, and mostly naked, which was unusual for winter. Sometimes Sophie slept naked in the summer when they were both too hot and the AC wasn’t helping enough. Parker liked the smell of Sophie’s skin. She leant her cheek on Sophie’s arm, and listened to Sophie’s heartbeat. She felt warm inside, like she’d just drunk whiskey and it was heating her from the chest outwards. 

When she woke up again later, Nate was swearing, and she wondered if she’d fallen asleep during a meeting. But she was in bed, and Sophie was there. 

“Where are my pants?” Nate was saying. “Oh, fuck. What’s she doing in here?” 

“She’s my little. She always comes in for a cuddle in the morning,” Sophie said. 

“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep,” Nate said. 

“Calm down.”

“I can’t find my pants.” 

“They’re on the chair. I don’t know why you’re so upset.” Sophie’s voice was irritated. She was usually relaxed first thing in the morning. Parker didn’t like her to be upset. She nuzzled into Sophie’s neck, wishing they were asleep again. 

“Because, Sophie, we haven’t defined what this is. If Parker sees us, she’s going to have questions. And forgive me if I don’t want your little to see us in bed together!” 

“If she has questions, I’ll answer them,” Sophie said, petting Parker’s hair. 

Parker opened her eyes. The room was dim, but she could see Nate’s shadow. “You were having sex,” she said. “I know what sex is.” 

Sophie smiled. “There, you see? You’re the only one freaking out.” 

Parker didn’t know why people wanted to have sex, but she knew they did, Sophie included. That was fine. As long as she didn’t have to be involved, she didn’t care. 

Nate crashed into the closet. 

“She’s awake now, you can put the light on,” Sophie said. 

“I’m still not dressed,” Nate said. 

“I can guarantee that Parker doesn’t care. And neither do I.” Sophie was sitting up, which meant Parker was jostled out of her nice warm space against Sophie’s side. 

She yawned, blinking. Moving made her realise how wet she was. She must have wet again after coming to bed. And she realised she _did_ have questions about Nate and Sophie. Was Nate going to start coming over a lot? Would Sophie want her to leave? She rubbed her eyes with her fist. 

“Are you tired, kitten? When did you go to bed?” Sophie asked gently. 

“Need a change,” Parker said, letting her hair fall over her face. 

“Do you want me to help?” 

Often Parker could do it by herself, but she didn’t want to be away from Sophie right now. She nodded. 

Sophie got out of bed and put on her silk robe. She took Parker’s hand and led her across the hall into her own bedroom. Parker picked up Bunny and settled on the bed, letting Sophie take over. 

“Is Nate mad?” she asked as Sophie got out the rash cream. 

“I don’t know.” Sophie snorted. “If he is, he is. That’s his problem.” 

Parker played with Bunny’s ears. “Are you gonna want me to leave?” 

“Lift your hips,” Sophie said, and slid the diaper up in one quick motion. “Leave? What do you mean, darling?” 

“If Nate’s here.” 

Sophie put the cream and wipes back into the changing bag. “Well, sweetie, if I’m going to be out all night, you might prefer to stay over with Hardison. But it’s up to you.” 

Parker sat up, and found her pyjama pants. She wanted to ask if Sophie what would happen if she decided to be with Nate all the time now. Because Nate didn’t want a little, everyone knew that. Would Sophie want her to leave forever? It was different with Nate than it had been with other men. Because Nate was important. 

Parker was too afraid to ask that question. It stuck in her throat. She didn’t think there’d ever been a question she’d been too afraid to ask before. She hadn’t ever expected she’d turn out to be chicken. 

11\. 

When Parker woke up, it was dark, and she was still in the back of Lucille. She could feel the vibrations of the van under her ear, and she was stiff, and sleepy. She wanted to be at home: specifically, she wanted to be in the nest she’d made under her bed. She yawned, sitting up groggily.

She was worn out from stealing people’s souls all day – she’d had to pretend to be an eager rookie reporter, a little trying to be taken seriously in the workplace. People had patronised her and she hadn’t been allowed to taze them. 

“You up?” Hardison glanced up from his laptop, and rubbed his eyes. Eliot was asleep, sitting upright, a melted icepack on his thigh. 

Parker was thirsty, and she wanted her pacifier. She searched around on the dark floor, and found the one that had popped out of her mouth while she was asleep. 

“Don’t suck that,” Hardison said. “We’ve all been walking there.” 

Parker put it in her mouth anyway. It tasted like sand. She was wet, too, her diaper cold and clammy. 

She kind of wanted to cry, even though she only had tiny things to worry about – being thirsty, wanting a hug, having a wet diaper. The rocking of the van reminded her of trying to sleep on the subway when she had nowhere to go. Eating lots of sugar at night so she would stay awake. The jittery feeling inside her, like her skin was full of flies. And failing to keep dry, rashes on her legs and butt. 

Being little felt like a punishment. _And_ she’d been punished for being little, by so many people. It was OK to tell a little they were dumb, because they did dumb stuff like want a pacifier or cry or pee themselves. It was OK to hit her to make her stop crying. Littles were manipulative, they didn’t have real feelings. 

She swallowed. It was stupid to let herself remember things like that. She stood up, and shuffled awkwardly to the front of the van. Nate was driving, Sophie was talking softly. Classical music played on the radio. Parker wriggled over the seats. 

“Careful,” Nate said, as though she was going to jostle him. Which was a little insulting, given how much time she spent climbing through much narrower spaces. 

“I want to go home,” she said. It wasn’t what she meant to say, the words just came out. She pressed her face into Sophie’s neck and took a shuddering breath to stop herself from crying. 

“We should stop for the night,” Sophie said. 

“Already booked us a hotel,” Hardison said. “We’re twenty miles outside of Grand Island.” 

“Ooh, what’s the restaurant like?” Sophie asked. 

“I don’t know, it was the only place with a spa. I’m doing my best.” Hardison gave a long-suffering sigh. “Uncredited, as usual.” 

Parker felt Sophie’s fingers running through her hair. She sighed, blinking away her tears. “Do you have any water?” 

Hardison reached over the seat and handed her an unopened bottle. Parker sipped it just as the van went over a bump, and got water in her nose and down her shirt. She coughed, her nose stinging. Sophie rubbed her back. “Bath when we get to our room,” she said. “You’ll feel so much better when you’re clean and dry.” 

Parker rubbed her face. She was going to be a big girl. She wasn’t going to be dumb and little and teary. “With bubbles?” she asked. 

*

She’d been working so hard not to feel teary all evening too. She was what Sophie called “over-tired” and what Parker thought of as “jangly.” In the past, she would have drunk a lot of cola and climbed a building. Sophie had been talking to her about other coping mechanisms, and how falling asleep was sometimes better than fighting it until she passed out. 

She’d been hanging out in Hardison’s room since dinner, because Sophie and Nate had vanished to the bar. Eliot had gone with them, but he’d put on a shirt the showed off his arms, so Parker thought he’d probably be picked up pretty quickly by someone dominant. 

“You can go pick up dates too,” she’d said to Hardison as they made their way upstairs. 

“Not right now,” Hardison said. “I’ve been running comms all day, I’m exhausted. You keep me company.” 

They watched a movie about cops chasing criminals. The movie wanted them to root for the cops, and they did, because the criminals were so bad at crime. It was kind of embarrassing for them, Parker thought. 

She thought she was very responsible when she decided to got to bed instead of watch another movie. She clicked the knots out of her back and stretched her arms. Hardison helped her to find the room key. 

She’d been expected Sophie to be engaged in her nightly skin-care routine at the dresser, with maybe the news on. But the room was dark, with the faint smell of bubble-bath from Parker’s bath. Sophie’s suitcase was open on the floor; the bed was faintly creased where Parker had lain on it earlier. 

Parker wanted her Sophie. She wanted her _right now._ She’d been trying so hard to be well-behaved and responsible, and now she wanted Sophie to change her and hold her and sing to her. Parker rocked herself back and forth on her heels. The good thing to do would be to stay here and put herself to bed. But she didn’t want to do that – she wanted Sophie. 

She let herself out, intending to find her at the bar, and then she heard Sophie’s laugh, very faint, from behind the door of Nate’s room. Without thinking about it, Parker leant against the door, listening. Murmured talk, and then a very soft moan. 

Oh. 

Parker took herself back to her room. She changed her diaper, but she didn’t brush her teeth. She curled up on a corner of the bed. She left the light on, waiting. Sophie would come back soon. How long could sex take? She’d come back and she’d hold Parker and ask her if she’d brushed her teeth. 

Sleep came and went. The bedside light disturbed Parker, but she didn’t want to turn it off. She dreamt she was sleeping in an alley, and woke with a start. The room was still empty. She cried herself back to sleep. 

12\. 

“It’s not that you two aren’t consenting adults, but we need to know what’s going on with the team...” Eliot said. 

Hardison looked over at Parker. She bit her lip, curling further into the couch. “Did you know about this?” 

Parker squirmed, shrugged. She looked down the side of the couch cushion in case there was a lost pacifier down there. 

“Did you?” Hardison repeated. 

“And you didn’t tell us?” Eliot was staring at her too. 

“It’s just sex,” Parker said. “They’re just having sex. It’s not a big deal.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything.” Hardison looked really mad. Parker wanted to vanish into the couch. She didn’t know why she was supposed to tell them. Sophie kept saying that she wasn’t in a real relationship with Nate. 

Parker didn’t understand why people thought about sex so much. 

“Don’t blame her,” Sophie said. “I told her we were keeping it quiet.” 

“Quiet, sure,” Hardison said. “But not from us. We need to know what’s going on.” 

“It’s not even...” Sophie sighed. “We’re still figuring things out.” She was standing by Nate, which which meant Parker couldn’t hide her face in Sophie’s chest. 

“Isn’t that confusing for Parker?” Eliot said. He was looking sidelong at Parker, the way he did when he was trying not to be too intimidating. 

“Yes,” Parker said. There definitely wasn’t a pacifier down the side of the couch, but she found her special green silk scarf stuffed behind a cushion. She rubbed it between her fingers. “It is confusing. Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” 

Nate was pouring whiskey into a coffee mug. “See, I told you it was going to be hard on her,” Nate said. “You know I don’t want to get involved...” He coughed. “Why aren’t we having this conversation in private?” 

“Because we’re your team,” Hardison said. 

Nate coughed and then sighed “This is definitely crossing lines.” 

“It is.” Eliot put his hand on Parker’s shoulder for a second. “You need to sort your shit out,” he said. Parker thought he was talking to her, but she realised he was looking at Nate and Sophie. “I don’t need to know the details, I just need to know we can rely on each other.” He was grabbing his coat. “I’m out.” 

“I wanna come with you,” Parker said. She didn’t realise she wanted to until she said it, but suddenly she needed to be away from Sophie and Nate. And she didn’t want to be alone, hiding in a vent, which was kind of a first. 

“But kitten, I was going to take you home,” Sophie protested. “It’s been a long day.” 

“You can come with me,” Eliot said. He was doing a thing with his eyes. Parker wasn’t very good at figuring out what people were doing with their faces, but at least he wasn’t disagreeing. 

She stood up. She felt itchy all over, she just wanted to leave right now, but Sophie wouldn’t let her. She made Parker take her back-pack where they kept spare diapers, and put on her coat. Sophie’s forehead was wrinkled when she kissed Parker’s cheek. “It’s going to be all right,” she said. 

Then, to Eliot, she added, “Don’t let her stay out too late. And remind her to change her diaper, OK?” 

Eliot made a face. “She can stay out as long as she likes,” he said. 

Hardison left with them. He slung an arm around Parker’s shoulders. “Where do you wanna go, Mama?” he said. 

“Hey, I invited _Parker._ Don’t you need to go home to your elves?” Eliot said. 

“They’re orcs, as I keep telling you,” Hardison said. He looked over Parker’s head at Eliot. They were having one of those eye conversations people kept having. It wasn’t fair to have secret conversations without her. “Where are you gonna go anyway, a bar?” 

“Nope,” Eliot said. “We’re going to the playground. I’m driving.” 

He let Parker sit up front, with Hardison in the back, which was nice because people always assumed littles should go in the back. Parker fiddled with the radio until he snapped at her. 

Eliot brought them to a really good playground. It was so far out of the city that Parker always had to nag Sophie for a long time before she’d bring her. Sophie didn’t really enjoy playgrounds, even though the good ones were for everyone: kids, littles and adults. This one was set into a forest, with huge rope swings, walkways through the trees, and ziplines. 

It cost ten dollars for each of them to get in. Parker was so used to sneaking into places like this without paying that she was kind of surprised when Eliot and Hardison started getting out their wallets. Her own money was in a special pocket she’d sewn into the sleeve of her hoodie. 

It was getting dark when they arrived, and though the playground was open late, the crowds thinned out quickly. It was perfect. Parker shrieked until her throat hurt. She rode the zipline so many times her face hurt from the wind. It wasn’t as good as jumping off a building, but it was close. She loved the smell of the trees and the darkening sky, and the moments when it felt like her body wasn’t attached to anything at all. 

Hardison eventually coaxed her down with hot chocolate from the cafe. She realised her hands were so cold she could barely move them. He and Eliot hadn’t played nearly as long as she had, though Eliot had been willing to boost her into the higher parts of the climbing ropes. 

She climbed into Eliot’s lap without thinking about whether he’d mind or not. He said, “Parker,” in a growly kind of voice, and she leant her head into his chest. She took a deep breath, realising she was tired all over. It was a good kind of tired, better than the jittery anxiety she’d felt earlier, but it was also making her feel vulnerable. She wanted to burrow into someone’s arms – Sophie’s preferably – and not think about anything. 

Eliot had a pretty good lap though. So did Hardison. They both acted awkward if she curled up against them, like they weren’t expecting her, but they didn’t complain much. She knew littles were supposed to make other people feel calm and happy. It was their scent, coded into their hormones and skin. But she’d never made anyone feel relaxed until she’d met her team. 

“Your hot chocolate’s getting cold,” Hardison said. 

She reached out her hand for it, and held it carefully. She felt Eliot’s muscles tense as she took a sip, as though she was going to spill it all over them, but Parker wasn’t clumsy. He should know better. She yawned. She could barely see the playground now, night-blind from the cafe’s light. 

She snuggled back into Eliot’s warmth, and suddenly she was wetting. She felt herself tense, but she couldn’t stem the flow of pee at all. She hadn’t been paying any attention to her body, and now that she’d relaxed it had decided it was time to let go. Which was OK, expect she was peeing into her diaper right against Eliot’s thigh. Could he tell? Suddenly she felt disgusting: vulnerable, helpless, like no one would ever want to be around her. 

But Eliot put his arm around her waist, and squeezed. She didn’t know if he’d noticed and he didn’t mind, or if he’d only sensed that she was tense, but either way, it helped. She relaxed into him. Being wet intensified the vulnerable feeling. She suddenly needed her paci urgently, and Sophie. She rubbed her eyes. 

“It was good to come here,” she said. She reached for the hot chocolate again, and Hardison passed it to her. “Thanks, Eliot.” 

Hardison was looking at his coffee. “Hey,” he said. “You don’t have to tell us stuff about Sophie. Private stuff. I shouldn’t have asked you.” 

Parker stuck her finger in the hot chocolate and sucked it. “I don’t really... get the sex stuff.” 

“Are they making you feel bad?” Eliot asked. 

They were, but Parker wasn’t sure how to explain it. She played with the marshmallow residue at the edge of the cup. She was getting kind of sticky. 

“Are they?” Hardison asked, leaning closer to her. “’Cause if they are, me and Eliot will talk to them. Eliot might do more than talk.” 

“I didn’t want to talk to you about it, because that made it feel more like it was happening. Sophie kept saying it wasn’t a big deal, and asking me if I was OK.” She squirmed. Eliot was tense under her. “And I am OK, I guess. I just... I’m worried Sophie won’t want me now. Because she has Nate. And he does... sexy stuff.” 

She felt Eliot relax a tiny bit. He squeezed her against him; the pressure was reassuring. 

“No way. Sophie loves you more than anything,” Hardison said. “Anything.” 

“Way more than Nate,” Eliot said, with a snort. 

“Yeah.” Hardison stroked her arm. “With Nate it’s... They’re friends. And she thinks he’s hot, I guess.” 

“Is he hot?” Parker asked. Her nose was starting to run. She rubbed it on her wrist, and some of the hot chocolate spilled out onto her hand. She licked it. 

“No,” Eliot and Hardison said at the same time. 

“I...” Parker kind of wanted to disappear. “I’m scared I wouldn’t know how to be on my own, now. Bunny told me not to let it get too far, but I did anyway.” 

“Bunny told you...?” Hardison began. 

“Look at me,” Eliot said, in a serious voice. Parker squirmed around so she could see his face. “You’re not on your own now. Not ever.” 

“Yeah.” Hardison said. “And the thing with Nate, it’s different. Sophie hasn’t explained well enough.” 

“You’re hers,” Eliot said. “I can see it. For as long as you want, you’re hers.” 

Parker really felt like she was going to cry now. She was tired and wet, and all of this was too much. She was grateful to them, really grateful, and she didn’t know how to be grateful. She didn’t know how to love people. People were so strange and complicated and big, and she couldn’t make sense of them. She’d always felt like an alien. And yet Hardison and Eliot and Sophie, and maybe even Nate, were crossing the gap to her. 

She hid her face in Eliot’s shirt. “Hey, you’re really sticky,” said Eliot. “She’s really sticky,” he said to Hardison. 

She felt Hardison rubbing at her hands with the napkins for the table. She looked up at him and laughed, and he smiled back. “Let’s go home,” she said. 

13\. 

Sophie suggested they get take-out, but Parker wanted toaster waffles and bacon. She knew Sophie was feeling sorry for her, because she put maple syrup on the table without reminding Parker not to take too much. 

Parker took the opportunity to pour a puddle onto her plate so she could dip her bacon into it. Before dinner, she’d put on a footed sleeper with bunnies on it. She wanted to feel cosy after her afternoon at the park. 

“Nate said maybe the three of us should do something together. Something fun, like an acrobatics class.” 

“Nate can’t do acrobatics,” Parker said, scuffing her toes over the floor. “So that means you’re dating, right?” 

“I’m sorry, darling, I want to give you a definite answer, but... Nate’s too afraid of commitment to define things. And, honestly, I’ve never been serious about someone when I already had someone else in my life.”

Sophie sighed, and put down her knife and fork. She was eating poached eggs instead of waffles. 

“It would be easier if you didn’t have me,” Parker said. 

“Oh darling.” Sophie came around the table, and knelt in front of Parker, putting her hands in Parker’s lap. That was super weird, and Parker didn’t know what to do. She was sticky, and she guessed she’d better stop eating her waffle. 

“I don’t know if telling you this will help. You’ve been let down so many times.” Sophie drew in a breath. “But you are precious to me. I will always put you first.” 

Parker swallowed. She felt her cheeks growing red. She cut a piece of waffle so she wouldn’t have to look at Sophie. “OK.” 

She wanted to say something more, but the words wouldn’t come. She reached for Sophie’s hand, and felt herself choking on a sob. “You’re not even my real mom,” she said very softly. She slid off the chair and into Sophie’s arms. 

“And you’re a pest,” Sophie said, holding her. Kissing her forehead and her cheeks. “And I love you.” 

Parker squeezed her arms around Sophie. She didn’t think she could ever hold onto her tightly enough. “I put you first too,” she said, around the tears in her throat. “Even more first than Bunny.” 

“I couldn’t ask for more than that, could I?” Sophie mopped the tears from Parker’s face. “Let’s finish dinner. Then we can watch _Robin Hood_ before bed.” 

And, for a moment, Parker trusted someone else completely. It was like flying.


End file.
